The Sassy Gay Polish Friend
by ProcrastinatingPalindrome
Summary: Meet Russia. He and his ex-boyfriend are on the verge of throwing the world into all-out nuclear war. This fate could have been avoided if he had a sassy gay friend! Implied Russia/America.


((AN: Oh god, this is dumb. And will probably make no sense whatsoever if you aren't familiar with the Sassy Gay Friend series. If you've never seen them before, go look them up on Youtube. THEY ARE GLORIOUS. And without further ado...))

Russia sighed, rubbed his bloodshot eyes and tried to focus on the document on his desk. He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten any sleep, but there was no time to think about that right now. There were too many important decisions to focus on...like whether or not he should start developing a more powerful nuclear warhead. The ones he had now could take out a city easily, but he knew America was trying to build something stronger too, and he couldn't possibly let America get ahead of him. Of course, when America found out that he was building a new kind of bomb (and he would, sooner or later), he would take it as a threat. Maybe that would be the final straw that pushed them over the edge into a real war. Russia would just take his chances on that, and uncapped his pen to put his signature on the proposal...when the door suddenly flew open.

"What are you doing?" a familiar voice said sharply from behind. Russia turned to the intruder. Poland stood in the doorway, jabbing a finger aggressively in Russia's direction. At some point between that very instant and when Russia had seen him last, he had acquired a scarf. It was orange. It was covered in sequins. "WHAT. WHAT. WHAT ARE YOU DOING."

"I do not recall inviting you in, Poland," Russia snapped, putting his pen down with an audible click.

"Like, I totes don't need an invitation to stop you from being an idiot. I wasn't going to say anything, but this little nuclear dick measuring contest you and America are having? Has got to stop. Now put the pen down and step away from the desk, you stupid bitch." Poland tossed the scarf over his shoulder to punctuate that statement. Russia frowned. That scarf had no business being so sparkly. A little voice in the back of his head pointed out that he should have been more concerned about the fact that Poland seemed to know all about the documents on the desk, but somehow that sequins-covered scarf was too distracting to listen to the voice for very long.

"It _will_ stop," he said flatly, jerking his gaze away from the offending garment and folding his arms. "Sooner or later this competition of ours will have a winner, da? Leave now, this is none of your concern."

"Uh, actually? Since you and your boy-toy are on the verge of blowing up the world because you're both so butthurt about God-knows-what, yeah, it's _totally_ my concern."

Russia should have just pressed the convenient little button hidden under his desk to call someone to kindly escort Poland out of his office and all the way to Siberia, but Poland's words made him pause. "I am not sure what you are meaning by 'boy-toy,' but I think maybe you are having the wrong idea about mine and America's relationship."

"Oh _really_. Like, enlighten me. What _is_ your relationship with America?"

It was the lack of sleep that made Russia flounder for a moment before speaking. "A purely non-sexual and hate-fueled relationship, I assure you."

"_Puh-leez_," Poland snorted, flapping a hand limply at Russia. "Everybody knows the Cold War is just a fancy name for sexual tension. And it's probably only called cold 'cause of all the cold showers you two have been taking, am I right? It's way obvious you guys are hot for each other. Quit fighting it already."

"Maybe you should have a little evidence on your side before you make such outrageous and false statements?" Russia said, in his most poisonously sweet tone. He was in no mood to have this conversation, especially not with someone who was wearing that sorry excuse for a scarf-

"Is the shoebox you've been hiding in your closet full of sexy pictures of America in the shower evidence enough? You know, the ones you got the KGB to take for you?"

Russia's jaw nearly hit the floor. "How..._how_..."

Poland smirked. "You're not the only good spy around these parts, sugar. And for the record, I think I speak for everyone when I say that I totes don't want the globe to be plunged into nuclear winter just because you've got the world's worst case of blue balls."

Russia opened and shut his mouth soundlessly a few times, trying to coax his vocal cords into working again.

"So here's what you're gonna do," Poland continued. "Instead of signing your silly little paper and getting your dudes to make more of those totally phallic shaped bombs, you're gonna call America and talk about your feelings and quit pretending that you hate each other, got it? 'Cause it's not fooling anyone. And then you're gonna catch the next flight to Washington D.C. and the two of you are gonna go at it like bunnies until you get all this doomsday crap out of your systems. Oh, and you can take the strawberry flavored condoms in the downstairs cabinet with you."

Russia's voice finally came back, but all he managed to say was, "_What_ strawberry flavored condoms?"

"Oh, I bought 'em a few weeks ago, but like, I didn't realize they were latex until I got home, and I'm totally allergic to latex. So you can help yourself to 'em, for the good of the world. No need to thank me." Russia blinked at him until he added, "It's one of those 'assorted sizes' boxes, so there's gotta be something in there that'll fit. And you know, I heard that America totally loves strawberries."

Russia resisted for another five seconds before surrendering. "...which downstairs cabinet?"

"You know, the one right outside the kitchen...oh, I'll show you. Come on, you stupid bitch." As if the evening hadn't been strange enough, Poland proceeded to put a friendly arm around Russia's back as he guided him out of the room."He's a stupid bitch," Poland said fondly over his shoulder. Russia glanced backward at the apparently empty room and wondered if it was worth the trouble to ask who Poland was talking to. He decided it wasn't. He had a box of condoms to find and a very important phone call to make.


End file.
